


White Blood|| Book One

by whorror_jpeg



Series: White Blood [1]
Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Chronic Illness, M/M, Past Abuse, cystic fibrosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 10,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorror_jpeg/pseuds/whorror_jpeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>See if you can't catch my reference to The Forest Fic</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

My world came crashing down when a mere two sentences were whispered into my parents' ears that morning. It was only seven words, a word for every day in the week, which was how long it took for the doctors to come to this conclusion.

"I'm sorry. The tests came out positive."

My mother nearly broke down as my father gave thanks and asked if there was anything they could do to help. My lung was going to be a popped party balloon. My own chest was betraying my body. This sucked. 

The doctor willingly told them that a lung was going to be over $500,000. Of course, it would be. All they want is our money. Does a lung really cost that much if it's from a dead person? Not like they'll need the thing anyway. You never see terrorists holding people hostage for 500 grand, let alone a lung. It simply didn't make sense.

Maybe I'm just being bitter about this, maybe I'm not actually thinking rationally. Yeah, that's right. I mean, who would? I'm losing a lung, for Christ's sake!

I shouldn't have been so mean about the lung... there is no price when it comes to a human's life.

Well, let's think clearly about this. If you're in, let's say a _hospital_ , and the doctor says you have a disease that can kill you if not treated, and suggests you paying him an amount of money he deems necessary, and saves your life, does that count as putting a price on your life? You could accept the treatment, and have months of hospital bills, but then again, you could decline, no matter how the doctor says it's in your best interest, and die in your home.

"Well, how much is treatment now? We don't have the money right now for a full lung transplant." my father said shakily.

"I can prescribe several things that will help with everything, but he will need an oxygen tank with him at all times. He can, of course, take breaks from it to be in the shower or bath, but nothing physically enduring to the point where he'll overuse the tank. That means no sports or outdoor activities."

That most definitely caught my attention.

"Wait, I... I can't play basketball anymore?" I looked up at the doctor. He sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Tyler. Not until you're better."

Nevermind about the whole _'I'm just bitter because I'm sick'_. I'm obliged to be bitter. I'll be as bitter as I want. Bittersweet tragedy should be my name from now on. 

How was I going to _not_ play basketball? I picked that team up and turned it around _Freshman year_. That team was a second _family_ to me! Basketball was _my life_ , the _only_ thing I could really call a hobby. I was going to coach the other teams! Middle schools! 

Cue the crippling depression.

The doctor continued, "I'm going to prescribe some medications that'll help him out in the long run. Garamycin, an antibiotic, Zosyn, a penicillin antibiotic, Acetadote, a mucolytic agent, and Pulmozyme, which is a cough medicine. I suggest getting dietary supplements, like Medium-Chain triglycerides. Some self care tips, which he is definitely not going to like, is postural drainage. It won't be fun, but it'll make mucus drainage a lot easier. He _will_ throw up, a lot." wow, thanks for the good news, asshole, "Mucus in the stomach is unhealthy, so the body will try to get rid of it." he turned to me, "Coughing can be cronic, you might see some blood or phlegm. A lot of your body is going to hurt, mainly your abdomen. A burning sensation might take place in your chest. It'll suck," no shit, "but don't fret. In the case that it does become unbearable, see me or go to an Urgent Care. Pulmonary hypertension, shortness of breath, sinusitis, or wheezing is common in your condition, and you'll be fatigued. You will also be easily prone to chest colds, pneumonia, nasal polyps, weight loss, infection and salty sweat. Your nails may deform as well. Now, I have a question for _you_."

What the hell? I was still processing the part where he said my damn lungs would burn.

"Yes?" I answered quietly, looking up at him.

"Have you started puberty yet?"

What did that have to do with anything? No, I was a late bloomer. I shook my head.

"You might continue to have a puberty stunt. And, uh, you have a likely chance of being infertile."

I accidentally laughed, my mother chuckled, my father smiled.

"Is there something funny?" the doctor asked.

I nodded, "I don't exactly need fertility."

The doctor looked baffled, "well, don't you want children?"

My dad at this point laughed.

The doctor huffed, "what is it? Spit it out!"

"Doc, I got a serious case of homosexuality. It's nearly crippling."

The doctor's face turned beet-red as realization overwhelmed him.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to impose-"

My dad clapped the doc's back, "It's fine. You didn't know."

The moment was short lived. I broke into a coughing fit and started dry-heaving.

My mother grabbed a trashcan and put it in front of my face so I could fully vomit. When I was done, I looked up at the three of them and groaned.

"This sucks."  


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

I got home that night and explained everything to Josh, the dork I called 'best friend'. He hung upside down in his bunk so he could see me as I spoke to him about my problems like I usually did. That was just Josh, though. He liked to listen.

About a year ago, Josh had been kicked out. He was in a really bad place in his life, therefore making stupid decisions. He'd always come over stoned or drunk, calling when he needed a ride home, receiving from my brother. I'll admit, I was close to cutting ties with him. But of course, I didn't. I allowed him to explain himself. A lot of things happened, things he'd never even showed signs of.

Like all the movies, he came knocking on our door one night in the pouring rain. The poor kid had been beaten up in a fist fight with the person he used to so admirably call Dad.

My parents let him stay, of course with specific rules given to him and only him. He, needing a place to stay, happily complied. Now detoxing, however, was the closest thing to hell.

Well, it _was_ , anyways.

When he listened, it was almost like letting things go gently, but quickly. Like, if you let the sand fall slowly through the cracks of your hands, you can feel the weight slowly and gently being lifted. It was nice. It always was nice talking to Josh. I'd came out to him first when I got to know myself as a prime homo. Josh laughs at me when I do so. That same night, he sarcastically came out to me as a hetero. Asshole.

"Dude, that sucks," he said softly, not wanting to disrupt my parents' sleep. He was generous like that.

"That's what I'm _saying_! All of this is bull. Can't I just get a lung from the black market and tell the doctors to put it in my body... nevermind, don't answer that," I retreated. When I looked up, I laughed loudly.

"What?" Josh asked.

"Josh! Your face! It's redder that a kid's beaten ass!" I laughed.

Again, the stupid asshole sickness I had wasn't going to let me get away with having some fun. Nope, not at all.

I started coughing, my chest hurt and it felt like my body was going to combust. I simply laid down and groaned. Josh got off the top bunk and laid next to me quietly, and stared at me.

"Don't look at me like that, asshole," I muttered.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm crippled. Handicapped."

"You're not handicapped. You're handicapable-"

"Fuck you."

" _Tyler_ ," his voice broke. I looked at him dead in the eyes and sighed. I wasn't the only one hurting. My best friend was scared.

I turned on my back instead of my side, "ya know, the doc said I'm more prone to illnesses that involve breathing. My white blood cells are already fighting something hard and can't focus on more than one thing," Josh stayed on his side and stared at me, waiting for me to continue, "Josh. I can't even play _basketball_ anymore," I sniffed, my voice breaking on 'anymore'. Josh simply scooted closer to me and let me rest my head on his healthier chest, despite all the smoking he'd done. He still vaped. I'd make fun of him for it.

"Ty?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll be your white blood. Always."

"You're a cheesy dick," I laughed a bit, wiping my eyes.

"I will! And if anyone screws with you at school, _They'll_ be the ones going to the hospital. Not you," he smiled. Oh shit. School. I completely forgot about that hell.

I groaned loudly. Three more days until summer break was over. Three more days until I'd get looked at funny. _Three_.

"Sorry. Probably shouldn't have mentioned it, right?" Josh chuckled nervously. I nodded, my hands covering my face.

That night, I didn't expect anything to happen, but we got my oxygen tank. My new pet. Awesome.

"I know you don't like it-"

"Nope, love it. It's my pet." I said snappily. My father looked at me disapprovingly, shook his head and sighed as he continued to tie me up to that death trap of medical machinery.

Josh came in with something behind his back as I was getting tied to that monster.

"What's behind your back?" I asked suspiciously.

"A surprise," he grinned.

"Taco Bell!" I said after smelling around, _despite the fucking oxygen tank hooked up to my face_.

He held out the bag and shook it around.

"What'd you get me?" I said excitedly, quickly switching my weight side to side.

"A chalupa," he grinned. I nearly crapped myself. I'd been avoiding fast foods for so long because I thought I was gonna get out of shape. Now, knowing that I'd have a really high metabolism, of course I'd devour the thing whole, given if I was a T-Rex. But I'm not. T-Rex's are extinct and my arms are _way_ too long to be that of a Tyrannosaurus Rex's.

The night quickly came to an end as Josh and I had quickly finished our food and watched some more of the X-Files, a show Josh quickly got me into. We managed to watch a season a week. There were a good ten seasons. Last summer, we binged of Supernatural. It was still a show we watched regularly, though my parents disapproved of it because of the religious factors. They freaked out when God, Chuck, came out to national television as bisexual. They tried to make me stop watching it, but of course I didn't.

"Goodnight, Jish."

"Goodnight, Ty."  


	3. Chapter 3

"Tyler, wake up, kid."

I groaned and turned over, lying on my side.

"Don't groan at me, c'mon, you're not the only one who has to go to school."

I turned back around and opened my eyes enough to where they were squinting.

"I'm in a whole grade above you, Jackass."

"And you are very undeserving of such things. C'mon. Get up." Josh chuckled, poking my foot, which I retracted back into the safety of my blanket.

I groaned again and sat up, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand.

"Atta boy, c'mon." Josh said, helping me up and throwing my jeans at me."

"It's too early for hell." I mumbled, staggering to get my pants on and over my underwear. I hated that my thighs were too skinny to the point that my underwear always, _always_ , bunched up in my pants. It made me look like I have a huge boner. Definitely not attractive.

I sleepily groped around for a shirt in my drawer- at least what I _thought_ was my drawer.

"Ty- _dude, get the hell out of my underwear_." Josh whisper-yelled.

I threw a look at him and went to my actual wardrobe, finding some t-shirt that Josh later had to turn around for me so I wouldn't look more stupid than I already did.

"Where's my Obey Keith hoodie?" I asked Josh, only to have it thrown at my face.

Socks. I love socks with a passion and I couldn't find my favorite comfortable pair.

"They're in the washer, Tyler."

"NO!" I screamed at Josh, suddenly fully awake. The asshole just laughed.

"They were gross, Ty! The color was _deforming_!"

"It wasn't deforming, it was building up it's magical juju!"

"They stunk."

"Con to having magic socks!"

He just laughed again and threw a plain black socks at me. They weren't even _matching_. One was a boot sock and the other was an ankle sock.

"What the fuck is this bullshit?" I threw the boot sock at Josh and he fell on his butt, laughing to the point of tears.

I put the ankle sock on and made way- with my pet, to the laundry room for another sock.

The car ride was for whatever reason awkward. Probably because as I tried to get in the damn thing, my pet pulled me back and I fell on my ass.

I haven't had a very good week.  


	4. Chapter 4

You know that feeling in the back of your head where everyone is watching you, but you know it's irrational? Yeah. Irrational my ass. Literally _everyone_ was staring at me, the kid with a big ass oxygen tank like I was prepping for flying out to space. How stupid and pathetic did I look? 

 _Really_ stupid and _really_ pathetic.

"Ty, this isn't about looking good. We're at school, learn something instead of focusing on how you look to everyone," Josh whispered in my ear.

"Easy for you to say. You don't have an oxygen tank and you look good all the time, like Brendon," I sneered.

"I am nothing in comparison to that beautiful boy, but thank you, you bitter-bitch," he chuckled.

"Fuck you. I have to go to the nurse and give them doctor shit. I'll see you at lunch," I muttered and made a beeline to the nurse's office.

"Oh, no Tyler, what happened?" Nurse McConnell asked me as soon as I entered. Dammit.

"Cystic Fibrosis happened," I mumbled, giving the folder with _all the amazing papers in it_ to her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie. I know how much basketball meant to you and how much you meant to the team."

"Yeah, it sucks. My family and the doc's are doing all they can with the given amount of money we have right now, which isn't a lot," I said with a fake smile. She just nodded and gave me an apologetic look, sending me off to my first class.

Fuck. What was my first class? I don't even remember getting my schedule in the mail.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands and throwing my head back, knocking my head on my tank in my bag in the process. Lets parade the kid with cystic fibrosis around! So fun! Much pity! Wow!

Yes, I did just use a doge meme. I'm authorized to.

I made my way _back_ to the front office, demanding my schedule. Okay, I was polite about it and it wasn't so much of a demand, rather a quiet and shy ask, but still. I was pissed.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Joseph. We didn't think you'd be coming back to school," My principal told me. Did Gerard not tell his dad that I was coming back? What a dick. Typical Gerard thing to do, honestly.

I looked at principal Way and shrugged, evaluating what he'd just said to me. That sentence could mean one of three things. He either thought I died, transferred, or was staying in the hospital. Assholes.

"Ah, here it is. Mister Tyler Robert Joseph." I cringed when Way said it like that. He'd always had a weird vibe around me.

At lunch, I didn't eat until Josh got there, who of course brought Gerard and Brendon, juniors like myself, and Mikey, Gerard's little brother who was a freshman. Josh was the middle kid, being a sophomore because he failed _all of algebra_ , but in reality was supposed to be in my grade, as he was the same age.

"You son of a bitch!" I yelled at Gerard, who turned to be surprised.

"What did I do this time?" Gerard said with a confused smirk.

"You really let your father think I wasn't coming back after I deliberately told you I was!"

Everyone laughed, _of course_.

"So, what happened to you?" Mikey asked. I've never talked to him before, just merely heard of him.

"I got shit in my lungs called cystic fibrosis," I muttered over the loud noise in the cafeteria.

"Damn, man... Like Emma from Bates Motel!" Mikey said excitedly. Brendon smacked his arm.

"Dude, what the fuck?" he laughed, more from being confused rather than finding something funny.

"I-sorry," Mikey said, embarrassed.

"Nah, it's okay. I've actually been wanting to watch that show."

"Yeah, it's good!"

"Anyways, Ty, what are you doing to prep for basketball season?" Brendon asked.

I sighed, "nothing."

"What?!" Brendon yelled, slamming his hands down on the table. He scared everyone.

"I can't play anymore, Bren," I said solemnly.

"Bullshit!"

"No, man. Doctor's orders," Josh interjected. Brendon's eyes were misty and equally heartbreaking.

I shakily sighed.

_Fuck, this sucks._


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, Ty?" Josh said wearily on his bed.

"Hm?" I said sleepily.

"Ty, I'm scared," Josh said in a shaky voice.

I expected this. Josh hadn't been sleeping lately, I figured something was up.

I sat up, telling Josh to come down. His eyes were water-broke, I could see it in the only provided light of the moon. His cheeks were tear-stained.

I patted my lap and he laid his head in it, still sniffling and holding desperately onto my leg. I didn't ask why, but he told me the answer to my unasked question anyway with pain and guilt written in every letter.

"I don't wanna lose my best fren, Tyler. I'm so scared, Ty," his voice cracked and made him sob. I leaned down and kissed his temple, playing with his ash-blue hair.

"I'm not going anywhere, best fren."

We fell asleep like that and we woke up as such, early, mind you. I had an appointment with my pulmonologist that morning at six, and school started at nine-thirty. What bullshit.

Josh was the one to take me to the appointment. All my other siblings were still asleep and unwilling to actually take me to a vital appointment, and I'd feel bad if I asked anything else from my parents. And since I'm a fucking idiot, I didn't get my driver's license yet, so I was stuck with always asking people for help. It seems I've been doing that a lot more than I usually do.

After the doctor did a check up on everything, asked me questions like "how's your oxygen tanks working out for you?" (to which I'd respond with "it's a pain in the ass")et cetera, Josh pulled him out of the room to talk to him privately. What would _Josh_ need to talk to _my_ doctor for? It was extremely uncomfortable watching Josh look hopeless and the doctor babble on without being able to know what the conversation was directed to. I knew it was to do with me, I just didn't understand _why_ Josh would ask anything. Maybe how to get fluid out of my lungs correctly?

The two came back in, the conversation ending with, "I'll get you an appointment for the weekend, okay Joshua? You'll just have to call in."

"What were you guys talking about?" I asked, sitting up.

Josh quickly replied with "nothing. You don't need to worry about it right now, Ty," and he smiled at me. He fucking smiled, like it wouldn't worry me even more, because God knows that was a fake ass smile.

"Will you tell me later?" I asked.

"Something like that," Josh mumbled. I sighed, aggravated. I understood if my parents wanted to keep a doctoral issue from me, but my best friend? The one who told me when he'd fucked someone and how he did it? If it was a threesome, or just a girl, or the one-time thing he had with this guy he wanted to experiment with?

I was left in the car with my curiosity unhandled. I didn't talk the whole way to school, but I don't think he seemed to notice.

"And why were you late, Mr. Dun?" the lady at the front desk asked.

"I was his designated driver, Miss," Josh said with a smile. The lady and him got along well.

"Alright, I'll make sure the attendance knows that. You boys have a good day," she dismissed us and I immediately started walking off.

"Okay, why are you being a bitch?" Josh sighed, exasperated. I shrugged my shoulders, knowing it'd irk him.

"If this is about me and the doctor, I'm sorry, Ty. I can't tell you," Josh said, putting a hand on my shoulder and turning me around. I sighed dramatically.

"Josh, you tell me everything! And I mean _everything_. You told me the last time you took a shower that you jack-"

"Tyler!" he yelled, putting a hand to my mouth. I groaned and rolled my eyes, annoyed all the more, "I told you I'd tell you, but only if a certain thing happens."

I sighed and hugged him across his neck, he hugging around my waist. It was awkward as I was the taller one. But it was acceptable, awkward was good, and _damn_ did Josh give good hugs. The best.

In that moment, everything didn't suck as much as I thought it had.

 

   It was the possibly one of the saddest things to see the team so lost after class was done. Our coach last year passed most responsibility to me, but now since I couldn't be the team leader, Brendon was attempting to do what I couldn't. And no one possessed the power to take Brendon seriously. _No one_. I sighed and blew my whistle. The guys had all gathered around my place on the bench.

"Stump, what's with you? Did you not practice over the summer?" I asked.

"Nah, man. We all gave up because we thought you'd be leaving," Pete replied solemnly.

"I might not be on the damn court, but I swear to God, if you don't get you guys' acts together, you'll be speaking to me, personally. Jaime, Vic, Kellin, that goes for you guys too!" I said, my voice rising a bit when I talked about the three stooges. They always had a way of poking my buttons unintentionally.

"Let's get back on the court guys," Brendon yelled loud enough to make Dallon jump, which was extraordinarily rare. Brendon made the call that I should head home and that he'd keep them going.

-

"Hey buddy, how was school?" my brother, Jay asked as I walked in. I took a fucking Uber and the guy had crazy eyes. Not my best Uber experience.

"Swell," I sighed.

"Doesn't sound like it," Madison interjected. I groaned and walked to Josh and I's room. Who wasn't even there.

"Josh?" I called.

"He's out helping mom shop!" Zack yelled from the bathroom.

"Dude, you couldn't let someone else respond?"

"Nah."

It wasn't until seven that Josh came back. He patted my back as I coughed up my lungs in the toilet. He laid his head on my back while I coughed, wrapping his arms around my waist.

My coughed soon died down, and all together stopped, but Josh still sat there and hugged me.

"You okay, Josh?" I asked, turning my cheek towards him.

"Yeah," he sounded dazed. I thought he'd quit.

"Are you high?"

He jumped up, giving me a look of disbelief, "No!"

I surrendered my hands, "sorry man, you just sounded different."

He calmed down and helped me up, "no, just thinking about things."

"Oh, _more things_ you apparently can't tell me yet?" I mumbled bitterly.

"Don't be a dick."

"Ugh," I stood up, detaching myself from the oxygen tank.

"What are you doing?" Josh asked, eyes wide.

"Relax. Just taking a shower. I feel gross, man," I laughed a bit, "I'll be out in seven minutes, tops."

"Alright," he sighed, walking out of the bathroom as I undressed myself.

My showers _never_ took _seven minutes_. They took _three_ , but I just wanted spare time to think about everything that brought me up to this point. I'm a devout christian, and yeah, I screwed up a few times (a lot, okay), but nothing too bad, _right_? Was the big man in the sky simply testing me, or was he punishing me? Both? Neither?

I sighed and turned off the water off, letting the water drip down my face, finishing my last thoughts, and dried off in the shower. It wasn't normal for me to dry off in the shower, but I _really_ didn't wanna have to face that damned air tank again. The bathroom was foggy, still a bit cold out of the shower, but only because of the AC. That, and because the oxygen burning my lungs was cold, too.

"Christ, it's cold," I whinned as I hauled my tank to my room, earning a yell from my dad.

"Watch your mouth, Robbert!" my dad yelled from livingroom.

"Sorry!"

I heard Josh sit up that night. The bed made this cringy noise every time he did. I looked over at the time. One-Two-Three-Four in the morning.

"Tyler? You awake?" Josh whispered.

"I am now," I groaned.

"Sorry..." he said quietly, laying back down.

"Did you need something?"

"Nah, it's stupid."

"Josh," I said warningly, "Tell me."

"It's not that simple, Tyler."

"Josh."

He sighed, "fine. But promise me that you won't let it ruin what we got, yeah?"

I began feeling rubatostic, "yeah, go on."

It took him a long while to respond with such a simple sentence with so many meanings and emotions behind it. It made me nauseous and anxiety filled, I wanted to choke on gasoline, but all in good meaning.

"I love you, Tyler."  


	6. Chapter 6

"Say something, anything, _please_ ," he pleaded. It's not that I didn't _want_ to respond or simply wasn't _acknowledging_ anything he said, I couldn't make myself say anything. I wanted to, and it hurt to hear Josh whimper.

My voice found itself before my brain did, "I'm sorry Josh, I just- wait, I thought you were straight?"

"Maybe I'm not in it for the sex. Maybe I'm just in it for the personality- _the connection_. Whatever it is, Tyler, you've got it," I could hear the admiration in his voice, something I wasn't deserving of.

I sighed, attempting to figure out what I was going to say this time.

"Tyle-"

"Goodnight, Josh."

I rolled over, checking the time again.

One-two-three-seven.

-

"What's wrong?" Brendon asked when I pulled him aside in astrology class.

"Something happened last night, Bren," I said shakily.

"Who'd you fuck?"

I smacked his arm, "no one! It's something with Josh..."

"Go on?"

"He told me he loves me," I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face, careful of my NC.

"Oh, shit," Brendon said wide-eyed.

"Glad to know you understand the severity of this."

"Dude, it hasn't been since _Debby_ that he's said it in _that_ way."

"I'm fucking aware, Brendon," I snapped.

"Calm down, asshat. Anyways, I thought he was straight?"

"I thought so too."

"Well maybe he's found his exception," Brendon said oddly, looking up at the ceiling to think, I assumed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, same way girls have lesbian exceptions, lesbians have straight exceptions-"

"I thought Josh _was_ a lesbian."

"Shut the fuck up, Tyler," he stifled a laugh, "but like, gay guys have straight exceptions, like Tyler Oakley and Ariana Grande or whoever, and mine is dogs-"

"Brendon, that's illegal," I added quickly.

"That's not the point and you don't need to repeat that," he pressed his finger up to my lips and continued, "all straight guys have at least one gay exception."

"Why wouldn't it be you? I mean, c'mon, you're hot as hell. I'm just a kid with an oxygen tank. Josh goes after people like Debby. I'm no where close. I'm lanky, and skinny, and disproportionate."

"Exactly!" Brendon exclaimed.

"I'm not following."

"Tyler, you don't have to _look_ perfect to _be_ perfect."

 

   The day went on, and high school seemed incredibly dull without Josh. He didn't sit with us, which worried me. I walked by his locker when I was leaving, just to see if his stuff was in it, when I was confronted by bold, yellow, spray painted letters on his locker.

 _ **Faggot**_.

I panicked a bit and called him, hoping to God that he hadn't seen it. It rang until it couldn't anymore and I was greeted instead with his voicemail _"Salutations, this is Josh Dun. Sorry I couldn't get to you, but I'll try to remember to call you later."_

I nearly screamed, and instead called my sister.

"Hey, need a ri-"

"Is Josh at the house?" I interrupted her quickly.

"No, why?"

"Dammit, call me if he shows up there," I spoke quickly, beelining to the gym.

"Tyler, what's going on?" Madi asked worriedly.

"I don't know yet. Just stay home," I rambled, hanging up afterwards.

I pushed the door open quickly, gaining the attention of everyone. Brendon walked up to me with a smile.

"Hey man, thought you were going home?" he asked.

"Have you or anyone seen Josh?" I said loudly in hopes to see if anyone in the group had.

"No man, not that I know of. What happened?"

"Faggot on his locker happened and he didn't answer his phone," I raised my voice.

"I don't know if I'm right, but I'm pretty sure I saw him going in the locker room a couple minutes before school ended. I don't know if that helps any-"

"It does," I cut Vic off, "Practice is over. Go home. Brendon, come with me."

Brendon nodded and followed me to the locker room. It was empty and smelled like musk as always, nothing could be heard. Brendon went over to the showers while I looked in the maze of lockers.

"Tyler!" Brendon yelled.

I rushed my ass to him, greeted by a shirtless, soaked, bruised, and bloody Joshua. I gave my pack to Brendon, untangling the NC so I'd have more room to maneuver, and got on my knees next to Josh.

I picked his head up in my hands, wiping blood and water from his face with my thumbs.

"Josh?" I asked quietly, gaining no response, "Josh, c'mon. Wake up, kid. You gotta."

He groaned a bit, but that was all I needed to know he was okay. I looked at Brendon, "can you drive?" I asked needily.

"Yeah, but I don't have a car."

"That's fine. Josh does," I commented, searching Josh's pockets for his keys, but to no avail, "Fuck. His keys are in his locker. Can you pick him up?"

"I mean, I think so," he said wearily.

"Good."

I took my bag and helped Brendon get Josh in his arms, bridal style. I decided I'd drop the subject instead of poking fun at them later.

We go to Josh's locker, I putting the code in quickly as Brendon complained how heavy Josh was.

The inside of his locker was a bit unorganized, and he did the typical teenaged girl thing where he put polaroid pictures in his locker. One of them was of just him and I when we went to the aquarium and got to feed stingrays for his birthday. The picture was faded and blue-filtered, and had the date on the white outline. Josh still claimed it to be one of his favorite days in his existence.

I sighed and grabbed his bag and lanyard, his keys making a chime as they moved.

"Let's go, Bren," I sighed and hoisted the bag on my arm.

We got out to Josh's beaten up Mustang from the late eighties, a car he loved and took pride of. He even named the damn thing Scully from The X-Files. I unlocked the door, pulling the seat back and throwing the bag in the opposite side of the back.

"Put him in over here."

Brendon did as told and eventually got Josh laying on his side in the back.

I never liked car trips home. Especially in stressful situations. I felt cramped and even more panicky.

"Tyler, he's going to be fine. We found him," Brendon offered a reassuring gesture.

"You don't know him like I do, Brendon. Josh just isn't the type to get into fights. Josh isn't the type of person to be able to handle something as petty as an insult on _Tumblr_ , _let alone_ a full-blown fist fight," I exasperated. Brendon moved his hand to touch the back of my head, which was soon due for a haircut, and raked his fingers in my hair, knowing it'd calm me down.

"Thanks," I said calmly.

"Yeah man."

We arrived at my house soon after, alarming my parents.

"What happened?" my mom said, getting up from her place on her chair. Concern was written all over her face, but I simply ignored her and ushered Brendon to Josh and I's room.

I just wanted Josh to be safe, _but this is not what I had planned.  
_


	7. Chapter 7

I hadn't slept at all. It's not like I needed to, it was Friday when Josh was beaten up. We kept him on my bed, Brendon slept soundly in Josh's bed while I stayed up. It'd been approximately sixteen hours of straight sleeping, before Josh had finally started to stir.

I looked at the clock; zero-three-four-two in the morning.

"Jish? You up buddy?" I asked quietly. He nodded and hummed in response. I raked my fingers through his hair, making him sigh.

"You make it _incredibly_ impossible, Ty," he said in a dry whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"You make it impossible to _not_ love you," he said softly, turning his head, opening his eyes, and petting my cheek.

"I'm nothing special, Josh," I said quietly, turning out of his hand.

"Tyler, you really _don't_ fucking get it, do you," he chuckled, grinning and turning his head to face the bunk bed's ceiling, "you went and _found_ me. You told Brendon to _carry_ me, had him take _my_ _car_ and drive home. I know for a fact that you've been up since we got back. You put me in _your_ bed and Brendon in mine so _he_ could sleep. I doubt you've eaten anything yet- Tyler, I could keep going on about how absolutely perfect you are in every aspect."

I groaned, "quite saying that! I'm not perfec-"

He looked me in the eyes, "Tyler, _yes you are_. You're perfectly imperfect, and those imperfections make you who _you_ are. _No one else_. And there's _nothing_ in the world I'd trade for it. My mind is literally full of unsaid thoughts of you specifically, and you-you're so much more to me than you think and I just-"

I cut him off by pressing my lips against his gently and pulling away slightly, just to test his reaction. He cupped the back of my head slowly and connected our lips back together. I cupped his cheek and deepened it, getting a nip at my lower lip before we mutually pulled away.

" _God_ , I've been wanting to do that for so long," Josh laughed and smiled at my ghost of a grin.

No, I didn't love him. But I definitely had stronger feelings than just the platonic affection I'd shown him for years. Acting upon such would let me deem my feelings easier, I suppose.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See if you can't catch my reference to The Forest Fic

"You know that feeling when you get this sense of drowning loneliness, even when you're with someone?"

"Yeah," I said under my breath, still looking up at the stars.

"Well, I used to feel that. All the time, it was excruciating. But things like phone calls with you would make me feel so... _vulnerable_ in the most positive way imaginable."

"Like sex?"

"Nothing compares to sex, sex is nice; heightens all your senses and makes you feel like Spiderman. But, even right now, I feel like fucking Superman," Josh said distantly, searching for something in his pocket.

"DC sucks, dude."

"You suck."

"No, I don't!"

He rolled on top of me, laughing, and kissed me with vanilla and c-major lips that immediately induced me into kissing back.

"You do too," he mumbled against me as his mouth was pulled into a grin.

I groaned jokingly and pushed him off of me. He fell off with a thud and slid slightly, getting scared. It wasn't the smartest thing to be on the roof, but it was a crisp night and made my lungs feel like they worked. A cold front was expected to roll in before Halloween.

I tugged on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and he scooted close to me, holding my body against his. There wasn't any particular word to describe his scent he made me smell or the feelings he made endure. There was something so romantic about him simply breathing that I couldn't rationalize, something so heart throbbing about the way his eyelashes fell on his skin. I found comfort in the way he drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel of his crappy mustang, the way he'd get so frustrated when playing a video game and losing. There was a sour gut wrenching feeling when he'd softly nip at the shell of my ear, blow out through his nose after a long kiss, squeeze his eyes shut when trying to restrain himself, but like all things, in good meaning.

He was the type of guy to collect the stars in his eyes so you'd be able to see them in him all the time, and they'd never go away. He'd offer you the moon and sun and stars and galaxy, so long as you'd accept the offer.

He'd offer you a scene from the future, only for you to realize it was going to be like that for an eternity with each other; a perfect life.

A perfect life in which I could never return.

Josh nibbled and sucked longingly against my shoulder, gripping my hip.

"Josh, self-control," I said warningly. He simply hummed and threw his leg over me, straddling me, and continued peppering his lips to my sternum. I sighed- more like gasped as he licked up my throat, over my underdeveloped Adam's apple and bit right under my tonsils.

"Hey faggots, get a fucking room!" a guy across the street yelled. Josh sighed and helped me back into the window, not saying anything in the process.

I closed the window and walked to him. His back was facing me and his shoulders were lax.

Wrapping my arms around him, I sighed and kissed the crook of his neck, but gained no response.

"Tyler, I don't understand society anymore... You wouldn't hear someone say ' _hey heteros, go love each other somewhere else_ ', now would you?" Josh mumbled, turning around in my hold so he could rest his head on my shoulder and smooch my neck softly.

"We _were_ being a bit provocative, Jish. He didn't have the right to call us faggots, though."

He nodded, "yeah, I guess. I'm just so _tired_ of this bullshit. Why is it okay that men hold guns, but it's against everything if they hold hands?"

"I dunno," I sighed, hugging him tighter.

"It's bullshit, ya know? I mean, they bring religion into homosexuality and say it's a sin," he and I sat on my bed, "Religion shouldn't be an excuse for someone's prejudice, judgment, and hate. That's fucked up and I hate it, Ty, _I hate it_. God should be uniting people and make them love each other and themselves. Who says it's their right to say what's acceptable and what's not?"

"I know, Josh," I whispered, stroking his face. He sighed and pushed into my hand, putting his own hand over mine and kissing me on the lips softly.

"I just want everything to be okay."  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This does have some triggering things in it. Read aware of this precaution.

"BP dropping."

"He's losing blood."

"Status!"

"Sixteen, male, Columbus, car crash, possible internal bleeding, more than likely brain damage, CF-"

"Which CF?!"

"Cystic Fibrosis."

"Shit."

Everything went black.

-

_Joshua's thumb padded against the steering wheel while his other hand was dancing along my thigh, high enough to put the heat in my cheeks, but low enough where he couldn't feel what his hand was close to treading on._

_The light was green, we had the right of way, as did other people._

_A truck, carrying the burden of large iron pipes, swung from around a corner, one neither Josh or I could see. We crashed into it, the pipes clattered, and all I remember seeing is one pipe going through his shoulder and the god awful crack that came as a repercussion and you could solely hear only it and Josh was hurt and Josh wasn't even screaming and Josh just mumbled an 'oh shit' before passing out and Josh couldn't wait till the ambulance came to do so._

_Neither could I._

-

It was two-three-eight in the morning when I woke up. My vision was blurry but I knew I was in the hospital. I had to be. What else would make me feel this way?

I looked around. It was too bright to see my surroundings. I felt woozy, not dizzy, but _woozy_. I figured it was from the needle in my left arm's radial artery. I noticed if I curled my fingers, my arm would start to swell in a particular spot and went I relaxed, it'd flow outwardly.

The human body was always _so_ interesting. Which is why I never questioned why I was alive. The human body is strong, and I had no reason to doubt it.

Those thoughts were challenged when I saw Josh's body. Was he even alive? Yes, he had to have been.

I sat up, groaning, and looked at my stomach. There was a large incision in my lower abdomen and I had reason to believe that it wasn't the only place I had to be stitched up.

Tossing my legs over the bed, I started coughing, enough to hurt but not enough to purge, and finally stood. I was wobbly, whatever pain meds they had me on made me feel incredibly high.

I dragged my IV pole with me to Josh's bed. He was knocked out, to say the least. Sitting down, I raked my hands through Josh's hair, which in response made his eyes flutter open.

"Hey," I said with a small smile. He didn't answer, just gave me a blink and sighed, "what's wrong?"

He turned his head.

"Joshua?" I pushed.

"I'm such a screw-up, Ty," Josh sighed.

"You didn't know, Josh. We're fine now, okay?"

"I am. You're not."

I thought. There wasn't much wrong with me besides the illness I carried. I felt fine.

"Josh, what are you talki-"

"The doctor got back to me. Your doctor. He checked up on you and then took me in for a lung scan to see if I could donate a lung. I can't," he said it with ease. He just let it roll off his tongue like it didn't mean anything to me.

"You we- you were gonna give me your lung? That's what you've been hiding from me?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Tyler, yes, okay?! I've been trying to donate my lung, but the doctor said I have too much damage to it because of smoking. Are you fucking happy?" He turned and yelled at me. Josh _never_ raised his voice at anyone, let alone blatantly yelled.

I didn't realize a couple of tears had escaped and made themselves home onto my cheek. Josh sighed and turned his head back to face the opposite wall.

"You didn't even give me a say in it?"

"No."

"Then what would happen if your lung _was_ healthy, huh? What if, instead, my body rejected it? Then what, Josh? You'd waste a lung on someone and you can't get it back!" I yelled at him. I needed him to understand the importance of this and the seriousness of the situation. He didn't. He just fucking shrugged.

I angrily sighed, "I appreciate your attempt, but some of us are better off goners, Josh."

That got his attention. He stood up quickly and slapped me across the face.

"Don't you fucking dare say that, Joseph. You're not a 'goner'. That's bullshit!" He yelled, grabbing my jaw. My tears flowed freely as my cheek stung.

"Y-you hit me, Josh..." I whispered in shock. His eyes widened as I backed up, and he reached out to grab my elbow, but I jerked it away before he could reach me.

"Baby, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, _please_ , _Tyler_ -"

I shook my head, backing up into the side of my bed.

"N-no, Josh," I whimpered, "I think we need to take a break before you _ever_ call me baby again."

"Tyler, please don't do this- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! You have to understand!"

"No. Just- just stop talking to me, Josh," I said, downcasting my eyes. He huffed in defeat, falling on his bed with a 'floonf'.  


	10. Chapter 10

Dinner was _incredibly_ tense and awkward. I could deal with Josh being on the other side of the ICU room we shared, but across a table? That was a different story. We had a day left of the weekend and we were still on not speaking terms. At least I was, he tried ever so often.

"Tyler, may I speak to you for a minute?" my dad asked. Not like I had a choice in the matter, he was already putting his napkin on the table and getting up.

We met at the bathroom.

"What happened?"

I looked down, rather than at him, "nothing.

"It's not _'nothing'_. You two are best friends! It's not like you two to just stop talking."

"It's best friend stuff, Dad. We just got into a fight."

"What could you possibly fight about in an ICU room?"

 _A lot more than you think_ , I thought to myself. I shrugged at him in response, still not looking at him.

"Well, you two better figure it out."

I nodded.

I drove with Mom on the way back. She played quiet music on the radio, something I didn't pay attention to as I was focused on my own thoughts.

"I don't know or want to know what happened between you and Josh, but you _do_ have to live with him, Tyler," my mom spoke quietly, as if not to disrupt the peace between her and me.

"I know mama," I sighed.

-

"Jish... are you up?" I asked from my bed. I heard him shift around and settle again.

"Yeah."

"Can I come up?"

It took him longer to respond, "please lay with my, Ty."

I heard him give a shaky sigh, I copied him, and went up to his bed, not before letting my NC's cord let loose and extend from the oxygen tank.

And we didn't say anything for a long time. It was just us (and my machine, but that fucker's not part of this), and the quiet cold night. He kept his eyes on my face; I could feel it, while I kept my eyes low.

"I love you too, Josh," I whispered, a tear dragging over my nose and onto the pillow. I looked up, seeing Josh's eyes were the same, drowned organs as mine. He leaned in to kiss me, but I stopped him by putting a hand to his chest, "but that doesn't make what you did okay. I need you to understand me what I mean when I say you hit me."

He nodded, downcasting his eyes and waiting for me to continue.

"What you did could get you fined, or even worse, in jail. No matter the relationship, it is domestic violence if you outright hit your partner, do you understand?"

He nodded again, more tears being poured over his face. I placed a hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears and mumbling a "look at me, baby". He did. It was the most remorseful expression I've seen anyone give.

"I'm sorry, Tyler." he whispered, voice cracking.

"It's okay, Joshua," I whispered back, finally connecting my lips to his. God, I missed those perfect lips. He had on Burt's Bee's Vanilla flavored chapstick.

He ran his hand under my loose shirt and rubbed circles into my ribcage. I ran my tongue over his lips and he straddled me and everything was one euphoric turning erotic haze. He ground his hips into mine and like silly hormonal teenagers we were we dry humping for a short amount of time before Josh groaned and stopped kissing me.

"I _really_ don't feel like coming in my boxers, Ty." He growled and God did that boy make me do stupid things.

"Fine," I whispered in his ear before flipping us over to where I was on top of him. I grabbed hold of his shirt, raising it up and making Josh sit up enough to where his shit would slide off. I kissed him again, but didn't keep it up for long, and instead trailed down his torso, ending right where the band of his underwear started.

"Ty, what are you- oh Jesus fucking hell..." he babbled as I took him out of his boxers and licked his tip.

"Please, please, please, Tyler, oh my god." he moaned, speaking quickly. There weren't gaps in those words. I sat up and shoved his shirt in his mouth. He gave me a look but groaned and threw his head back on the pillow when I took him in my mouth. He, admittedly, was big enough to hurt the back of my throat.

He took out his shirt, "relax your throat, baby boy," he whispered before putting the makeshift gag back in his mouth.

 _Oh God, I'm kinky_ , I thought, realizing that I used something to be a _fucking gag_. And good God was it aggravatingly hot.

His chest rumbled with a groan as I grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed. It brought a longer than usual groan from his mouth.

He came, as promised, in no time. His salty cum ran down my throat at the consistency of yogurt. He tasted _amazing_.

He took his shirt out, catching his breath as I put him back in his boxers, and snapped his head up, giving me a look of shock.

"Did you _swallow_?"

I nodded.

"Holy fucking shit Tyler, you're so hot." he groaned, slamming his head back on the bed, "you didn't come, did you?"

I shook my head and he sat up.

"Well, that's not very fair is it?" he whispered, grinning, "lay down baby boy. Let me take care of you."

I did. He didn't suck me off, but it was amazing what he could do with his hands. I've orgasmed, yeah, but never came. Josh did the impossible.

Within _seconds_ , Josh and my torso were covered in a white, sticky liquid.

"I'm sorry," I said shakily. He didn't say anything, instead, he wiped what was on his face and lapped it from his fingers, and cleaned the rest up with his discarded shirt.

After putting me back in my briefs, getting down to put the shirt in the washer, he came back up, wrapping his arms around me and sighing.

"If make-up sex is like this with you all the time, we need to get in fights more often, huh?"

"God, no." I sighed and cuddled into his chest. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

"I love you, TyJo."

"I love you too, Jish."

 _Nothing_ sucks anymore.  


	11. Chapter 11

I don't even know what we talk about anymore. All I ever really do is listen to the sound of Josh's voice, Josh's laugh. Even when he's talking, I know he's listening to me, and that sound is perfection in its rawest form. We loved with a love that was absolute and more than just love, there was nothing to describe it. A simple four letter word would never suffice.

"I wanna get a tattoo with you, Josh," I said, looking up at the tree he was in. It was a nice and old willow tree we named Helena. It reached over part of a small pond that deer and horses and cattle would all come at early in the morning, and late in the evening. That being the reason we were here. I'd never seen deer before.

"Oh? What tattoo?" Josh asked, swinging his legs back and forth oppositely as a child would.

"I dunno. Something in latin." I shrugged, leaning back.

"Hm." he sighed. I gasped, taking out my notebook and writing down a phrase, "did you get something?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, what is it?"

"Something you don't need to know yet," I grinned cheekily. He laughed and then got real quiet.

"Tyler, look." he whispered, pointing a finger to the pond.

A giant, handsome, buck leading a doe and her two fawns. The male was white and grey, the doe a light brown color, and the fawns both a mix of the two. Pastel brown, perhaps.

I was entranced, they looked like they were in a movie. It showed what God could make, and that was true, unadulterated beauty.

The male began walking towards the willow tree, fearless but careful. He got to me, sniffing the blueberries I had in hand. I let him have them, and started to stroke the face of the buck. He jumped a bit but continued eating. I heard Josh climb out of the tree, settling next to me and whispering the other three were headed toward us too. The doe nipped at her mate's side playfully and came to Josh, who sat completely still as she went to eat his hair. I gave him the gallon sized bag of blueberries and he took it, gathering some in his hands and holding them up to the doe. She too nibbled trustingly as Josh patted her neck. The fawns followed through, warily greeting their mother and father, and started suckling on their mother's teats.

The sun finally went down, the mother and her fawns cuddled up against each other next to Josh and I while the father grazed not too far from us either. Couple yards at most.

"It's getting late. We need to head back," Josh whispered, trying not to wake up the family.

"Yeah, alright."

We stayed crouched, my backpack seemingly heavier when I was, and nearly crawled all the way over to the car.

"I know what tattoo I'm getting," Josh said after the doors were shut.

"What is it?"

"A surprise," he gave a breathy laugh and leaned in, trailing kisses down my neck, biting at the tendon that brought my shoulder and neck together. I moaned and turned to him, locking our lips and tongues and hands. The hand on my chest lowered to my pants and he parted from my mouth, reconnecting with my neck.

"Josh," I moaned as he palmed me through my jeans, "Josh, we need to get home."

"Wanna taste you, Ty," he whispered and fumbled to undo my belt. I sighed and pulled my pants halfway down my thighs. He took my cock out of my boxers and pumped me before spitting on his hand and restarting.

I groaned rocking my hips in time to his slow pumps. He licked the side of my neck before leaning down to swipe his tongue along my tip. What a joke I am, already leaking.

"God, you taste good," Josh groaned, palming himself.

"How are you supposed to get off?" I asked, gasping when he fully took me in his mouth and letting go with a pop.

"Do you not see me jacking off over here?" he laughed. It was true, his own cock was straining in his hand as he pumped himself at the same pace he was sucking my cock.

I gave a broken, high pitched moan when he let go of my dick and instead started prodding my entrance.

For a demisexual who's only experimented with one guy, he knew what he was doing with his mouth.

"We're not in your room anymore Ty, let me hear you," he said quickly, then resumed back to his attention to my dick.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Josh, please," I just about screamed when his finger hit the right spot and he sucked with the right amount of pressure. My hips jerked, hitting the back of his throat and making him cough. I kept my hips down, letting him work through. His breathing eradicated as he neared his orgasm. We came at the same time, unexpectedly. And yes, he swallowed.

"I got you all dirty baby boy," he whispered, his come all over my pants and console. He opened the glove box and grabbed a few napkins, cleaning us up, "I've got some basketball shorts in the back, hang on."

He quickly got out and came back with the shorts, which I put on quickly. He kissed my cheek and started the car.

-

"Hey, man, you gotta stay after school today. Something big's happening," Brendon always got overly excited over things like fights and such, so I sighed and shook my head.

"I have a thing with Josh."

"No, you don't. Josh is gonna be there."

"Damn it."

I headed to Algebra 2, my last class. All went well, but everyone, and I mean everyone was acting weird. My teacher, a 49-year-old Arab guy who doesn't care if there's an orgy going on right in front of him, was acting weird.

I leaned toward Gerard, "why's everyone acting weird?"

"I dunno?" he shrugged and continued writing his notes.

My phone buzzed right before the bell dismissed us.

Brendon

4:18 pm

meet me in the bathroom in a-hall

I responded with a simple 'okay' and gathered my things up to wait until the bell rang two minutes later.

"What's up?" I asked Brendon as soon as I saw him leaning on the outside of the stall. He pulled out a cigarette but put it back with a sigh.

"I forgot you can't be with me when I smoke. Anyways, I just wanted to get caught up with the Joshua gossip."

I felt heat be brought into my cheeks, "stuff and stuff."

"Like?"

"Stuff!" I snapped.

"Have you guys done the do?"

I looked down, "no."

"Oh my god, you so have!" he laughed, playing with his lighter.

"Shut up!"

"What was it like?" he egged on.

"It was like nothing because nothing happened!" I yelled again, making Brendon laugh. He stopped when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Alright fine. We gotta meet Josh and them at the gym," he sighed and threw his arm over my shoulder, dragging me along with whatever stupid thing we were going to do next.

It wasn't stupid at all.

"Surprise, Tyler!"

A crowd of people yelled, standing up in the stands and clapping as I got to the middle of the gym.

"What's going on? It's not my birthday?" I asked Brendon.

He laughed, "good, cause this isn't for your birthday. Go to the stand."

I did as told. My parents, siblings, Josh, the nurses, and the principle all stood together.

"What's going on?" I asked them.

Mr. Way took the microphone.

"Tyler Joseph," ew, "everyone here, student, teacher, and parent have been working together for four months now, raising money to get you half of the money needed for a lung transplant. Instead, we raised $47,632."

Everyone cheered, tears ran down my eyes and Josh hugged me. I moved to the mic, taking it and sniffling, laughter falling from my lips.

"Thank you guys, so much. I really can't say how much I'm- I'm so thankful for this," the crowd died down and I continued, "I quite honestly thought that I wasn't going to live past nineteen, and I'll admit, there were times when I thought 'why am I still here? I'm going to die anyway'. But I powered through. And it's because of my best friend," I paused, turning to my parents who were teary-eyed, "now boyfriend, Josh."

Everyone clapped. Everyone. My parents began laughing, coming to hug me.

"It was Josh who started it, honey." the nurse McConnell patted my shoulder. I smiled at my boyfriend lovingly, mouthing that I loved him, he returning it.

The night ended with fried cheesecake. Really good shit, it's like eating diabetes. We came home, cars parked here and there.

"Dude, why so many people?" I asked Brendon once I got in the front door.

"I invited Dally, who invited Ray, Frank and Gee, who had to bring Mikey, who asked Melanie, who asked Haley, who asked Ashley, which all of this somehow lead to Patrick, Pete, Kellin, and Vic all being here too."

"Dude, you're gonna give yourself an aneurysm. And I thought Mel and Ash didn't like each other?"

"They're not here for each other. They're here for you. Everyone is, Ty." He smiled and hugged me, kissing my temple; something he only did on good occasions. This was one of those occasions. I could say I truly felt happy, CF or not.


	12. Chapter 12

It's been three months since that party. I now sit in the waiting room of the surgery wing with my family and Josh. The anxiety was tangible, it radiated off of everyone.

"You're gonna come out of that room, Tyler," Josh whispered in my ear, his hand giving my knee a comforting squeeze. I threw a half smile at him and nodded slightly.

"Mr. Joseph?" a female nurse called me.

"Yes, ma'am?" I said shakily.

"We just wanna give you a check up before your surgery," she smiled.

"Can my boyfriend come with me?"

The nurse nodded and waved me over. The two of us were led to a back room. It looked like any other clinic room, really.

"Doctor Harmon will see you shortly," the nurse smiled and left quickly.

"Is Harmon your pediatrician?"

I nodded, Josh doing the same. We talked about what we were gonna do when the whole ordeal was done and over with. I told him about me wanting to travel a lot, he stayed quiet, nodding every so often while I rambled to him. At one point he just stared at me and I trailed off, just looking back at him.

"I love you, Ty." he mumbled, leaning in.

"I love you too, Jish," I smiled, and kissed him.

"Woah, am I interrupting something?" Dr. Harmon laughed.

"No," I chuckled and got on the examination table, sitting up.

"Big day for you, isn't it?" he smiled and checked my breathing, first with the oxygen than without. I nodded in response. He moved on to my eyes, ears, nose, and reflexes.

"Alright, you seem good," he smiled, "you can go back out. I'll tell the doctor you're ready."

We got back to my family, who's eyes were all watery. I sighed, knowing that it was harder for them than for me.

   I walked around the hospital. I knew I was asleep, I'd just seen my body. The doctors were in a panic, but I couldn't understand what they were screaming about. It was like hearing a TV from another room, wall muffled sounds that you want to understand but can't. So I took to looking around. It was the first time I felt I could breathe normally, not even breathing at all.

A white man appeared in the hall, he waved me over. He was blurry, I could make him out just barely. It wasn't that he was European, he literally looked like a bucket of paint had dropped on him, but he was beautiful.

"Hello," I greeted warily. He nodded and held out his hand, a small smile on his lips. I took it, hesitantly, and he lead me to an upstairs room, still not saying a single word. The room was white, not like a doctor's office, but more cloud-like.

"What is this place?" I asked.

"The entrance to heaven," he said, his voice deep and warm. He looked at me, a serious look appeared on his face.

"I- I don't understand. What's your name?" my voice wavered.

"I am Gabriel, and I need you to decide. Heaven or Earth?"

I stared at him. I couldn't be dying, could I?

"What happens if I choose one over the other?"

"Should you choose Heaven, your family will mourn, though your death is expected. However, they will move on, they will stay happy. Joshua will find comfort and love in another person and will live out a long life with his wife. Brendon will result in killing himself."

"And Earth?"

"You will defy death and live on to be an older age, though your death will not be painless. The two of you will have children, a life. You will experience loss, grief, and foolishness, but in the end, you will be happy."

"What happens if I chose neither?"

"You will reside in this hospital forever."

It seemed like the choice was obvious, was it not?


End file.
